


Miscommunication

by anxiouss_princess



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bill Denbrough Loves Mike Hanlon, Feelings, Hanbrough, Happy Ending, Hurt Bill, Idek what else to tag this tbh, Light Angst, M/M, Mike Hanlon Loves Bill Denbrough, Mike being dumb, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Movie: IT Chapter Two (2019), One Shot, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 03:14:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20717153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouss_princess/pseuds/anxiouss_princess
Summary: Basically Mike makes dumb decisions and stops talking to Bill out of panic, resulting in Bill obviously becoming upset over this. But Mike doesn't know that. Not until he runs into Richie... *dun dun dun*





	Miscommunication

Mike was sauntering aimlessly ahead with no direction in mind. There was no destination, a mere leisurely stroll because he wanted to clear his head of everything. The air was light and crisp, the trees leaves starting to turn diverse shades such as crimson and auburn.

Just beside the cluster of trees, under the shadows of the branches and multi-colored leaves he noticed Richie sitting on a bench as he kept walking. He was staring off into the distance, possibly looking at the foliage surrounding him or maybe not anything at all. Mike stopped his mindless wandering once he reached the bench as he stood next to a seated Richie. 

“Well, _look who it is,”_ Richie greeted as he looked up. There was something to his expression that Mike could not quite place.

“Expecting anyone else in particular?” Mike questioned, raising an eyebrow. Richie shrugged.

“No, not really. Just not _you,_ after all the …” he waved his hand as he spoke, as if in his gesture he was searching for the word he wanted to say, “_stuff_ I’ve been hearing lately,” making a face as he spoke, eyes widely expanding as he lips uttered the word _‘stuff’._

Mike’s brows furrowed together causing his forehead to crease as his expression crumpled in his state of confusion. _No way_ it was what he thought it was. “What stuff?” was all he managed.

“Don’t bullshit me Mike, it isn’t cute,” Richie was dead pan as he spoke these words, expression blank.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, Rich,” he responded with a quick and sloppy shrug, as if putting more emphasis on the movement than he should’ve and was too animated. 

“Bill told me that you’ve been blowing him off, ignoring him and shit,” Richie blurted out, looking straight ahead. He then let out a light snort proceeded by slowly shaking his head as he finally turned back to Mike, and despite the laugh his expression was unamused. “_Real charming,_ dickweed.”

Mike inwardly groaned_. Damn it, _it _was_ what he thought it was. Ever since the whole Pennywise ordeal Mike and Bill had been talking on the phone a lot, practically every day. Mike loved these phone calls and talking to Bill every day, but he started to get these _feelings_ that he couldn’t quite control. He didn’t want to jeopardize his friendship with him and be the one to drive him away. So instead he just figured he would rip the band aid off then, stopping contact. Thinking this line of thought _at the time_ when he had _done it_ seemed like the smart thing to do _then,_ but _now?_ Now he’s feeling kind of stupid and extremely guilty about it. He also had a sinking gut feeling this conversation he was about to have with Richie was about to make him feel a lot worse.

“Cat got your tongue, Mike?” Richie cut right through his thoughts like a sharp blade and his eyes had some anger behind them. “You _do _realize he came to me the other night a complete _wreck,_ right? Because of _you.” _

Mike’s stomach dropped out from underneath him. _Dear god,_ what did he do? “He was?” was all he was able to form with words as they were a jumbled and senseless mess in his head, all blurry and not even looking like words anymore.

Richie rolled his eyes. “_Duh_, what the fuck did you _expect _moron? Him to be _happy?” _

Mike tried not to roll his eyes at Richie using his dry humor during a moment like this. He was trying to focus on the issue at hand: _that he was a horrible friend, _or at least that was what Mike thought. “I thought I was doing him a favor,” Mike responded unsurely with a shrug, and it looked more natural now and less rehearsed unlike before.

“A _favor?_ What the _fuck, _Mike?! You’re going to have to give me way better shit than that_, _come_ on.”_

“I don’t _know,_ Rich. I really don’t know what was going through my head,” he admitted, defeated. Had he really made Bill that upset? Mike felt sick suddenly at the thought. His mind was racing with endless possibilities all blending together and popping in and out of his head. It was too quick for him to even register them, and he felt too frantic to even focus on any. They were almost like a background static noise. Suddenly he was wondering where Bill was, how he was, what he was doing. _Why hadn’t he wondered that before?_ Well, he did, but he forcefully pried it out of his concentration then. Now it’s being shoved back in by Richie’s meddling hands. _Meddling_ being the choice of word that Mike had in mind; a feeling of minor bitterness left behind.

He assumes it was most likely due to the embarrassment of his dirty laundry being aired out right in front of him and being forced to look at it. These strong prying hands coming out of nowhere to hold onto his head so tightly that he physically cannot look away.

“You could’ve at least had the decency to tell him you don’t return his feelings or _whatever the fuck,_ let him down gently. He thinks you’re _disgusted_ by him, dude,” his voice was raised in volume as he stood up from the bench.

Mike’s mouth went dry as his heart practically stopped beating. _“What?”_ His face twisted into a look of horror, confusion, possibly every emotion to ever exist. Who knows? Mike definitely _felt like_ in that moment he was feeling every emotion.

Richie probably sensed the sheer horror radiating off him by his face and tone of voice since his expression and posture softened immediately. “You really are a clueless dumbass, aren’t you?” he remarked softly, a grin starting to form as he shook his head at him.

“Look, Richie. I only stopped talking to him so I could get over these… _feelings _I had. That I thought he didn’t and would never return. I just wanted to get over them and not ruin our friendship. Or maybe I wanted to cut ties before _he could_ if he ever found out, I don’t know…” he trailed off suddenly, rubbing his neck nervously. Richie was eyeing him intently now with an indecipherable expression on his face.

“Wow, you really _are_ a fucking moron,” Richie walked closer, continuing, “dude, what in the actual fuck? Do you not realize how dumb that idea sounds after you said it out loud? And your ears actually _absorbed_ the stupidity?” To be fair, he did have a point. It did sound ridiculous when he said it out loud. He basically abandoned his friendship with Bill for no reason, without saying a word. _Fucking damnit,_ he thought to himself, wincing internally.

“I really am a shit friend, aren’t I?” he mumbled almost to himself miserably, but Richie heard him. Richie let out an exasperated sigh.

“No, you’re not a shit friend. You made a _shit decision,_ that’s for fuckin’ sure. You really fucked him up,” Richie pointed out, crossing his arms. Mike cringed.

“Really?” Mike felt miserable. He hated it when Bill was upset, but him being the cause of it made it about a hundred times worse.

“Hell fucking yeah, dipshit. He wouldn’t stop crying and kept asking me what he did wrong.”

“_Jesus,_ I—god... Richie, I don’t even know what to say.” Mike was truly at a loss for words, mind blank from the sheer mortification he felt as if he were on fight or flight mode. Words made no sense to him right now, at least the ones coming out of his mouth or trying to search for to say_ out loud._

“Just… I don’t think you fully realized when you made your _dumbass decision_ how much this fuck-shit you pulled would hurt him. That’s why I’m telling you this,” he kept staring at Mike as he was waiting for a response. “Go and talk to him, fuckwit.”

“You think he’d want to see me?”

“Of course he’d want to fucking see you. What the fuck?”

“Even after _this?”_ Mike was visibly uncertain, almost looked in pain. He thought he didn’t deserve the time of day from Bill after this.

Richie made a frustrated gesture as he rolled his eyes. “Are you _that_ clueless or are you just yanking my fucking chain?”

Mike didn’t know if he was looking for an answer, so he proceeded to throw up his hands with a look of bewilderment in response. Maybe _that _will tell him he didn’t know what in the _jack shit_ he was talking about.

Richie went on to continue his small tirade. “Bill is crazy about you, dipfuck. Remember how you guys would always point out how obvious it was that I loved Eddie?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, that’s _Bill _with _you._ It’s so fucking obvious, you oblivious _dumb fuck._ Now go talk to him before I _smack you in the head with my shoe,”_ he playfully threatened as he gave Mike a fond look.

“I don’t know what I’d even—”

Richie reached down to take off his shoe, a silent warning that he _was_ going to throw it at him. Mike didn’t doubt that he would either, so he put up his hands in surrender as he went to walk away.

“Good luck! Don’t fuck this up too, dumbass!” he called out over to him as he saw him moving farther and farther away. Mike just rolled his eyes, despite Richie not being able to see.

🌟

Mike walked up to Bill’s front porch, ready to ring the doorbell. He went to reach out and press it, but his hand jerked to a halt and hovered over it. He felt the dread of seeing him open the door, and all the possible looks he could get on his face upon seeing him. Would he be angry? Maybe happy to see him at first, then switch right to anger? Mike tries to squelch his panic and decides to just bite the bullet and ring the damn doorbell. _Deep breaths, Mike, deep breaths,_ he mentally told himself. He kept repeating it over and over like a soothing rhythm, trying to comfort himself.

Any of that comfort that might have been there crumbled away and died as soon as that door swung open with Bill standing in the doorway. He looked so disheveled, hair rumpled and bags under his blood shot eyes. His face was splotchy and flushed pink, as if seconds before opening the door he’d vigorously smeared his tears away to remove any evidence of crying. Of course, it had been done in vain, as Mike could clearly still notice. His heart ached as he looked at him.

Bill visibly paled when his eyes settled on Mike, resulting in them widening. “M—Mikey?” he gasped as he looked him up and down, almost in disbelief.

“Hey, Bill.” He didn’t know what else to say._ Fuck_, how was he supposed to do this? Especially seeing how he looked, the way he was looking at him at that moment. God, it was almost worse than him being angry at him, pushing him off the porch in a fit of blind fury. He thought he might have wanted that instead, since he felt that was what he _deserved._ But no, he looked at him with wonder, shock, and this pure raw love that was just _there_ written all over his face, sketched deep in his pretty blue doe-eyes.

“You’re here,” his voice was a breathless whisper as tears filled the brim of those eyes. He was smiling, and it filled Mike with so much adoration, yet also dread because he kept thinking in the back of his mind, _you don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve to see that loving look on his face._

“Bill, I’m so, _so _sorry…” it was all he could think of, other words fizzling out in his head as he came to a blank. All he could focus on was Bill’s face and his deep blue eyes that were piercing straight through him. He felt it ripping directly into his soul, sending all this guilt and sorrow leaking out of it.

He could see something inside Bill shift as his face recoils, looking wounded and deeply hurt suddenly. As if in that moment, those emitted words from Mike brought him crashing back to reality like a harsh punch in the face. Remembering what had led up to this moment, everything that had happened between them, what Mike did. Mike almost hoped the blinding happiness had worn off and he would become viciously _angry_ and tear into him, shouting every obscene and nasty thing that came to mind.

Bill was sluggishly backing up now, stumbling away from the doorframe. He started curling in on himself as he crossed his arms over his chest, as if to guard him in some way. _To guard himself from more pain caused by me,_ Mike thought to himself solemnly. He loathed the fact he had caused him this much pain and sorrow.

“Why did you leave me?” his voice small and weak, cracking on the word _leave._ _Fuck_ this was so much worse than him being angry. Mike wanted rage; he wanted him punching him, hitting him _anything_ else but _this_.

“Oh, Bill…” Mike sighed, his heart throbbing dreadfully. “Please know, and I _truly_ mean it, this had _nothing_ to do with you. I promise,” he was so earnest in the way he was expressing himself as he walked towards him, arms involuntarily extending out to him.

“How c-could it _not_ be about me? I f-felt—” his voice broke off, dying away mid-sentence. He hung his head, letting out a slow and shaky breath to try and steady himself.

“How did you feel? Tell me. Yell at me, throw things at me_, whatever._ I deserve it.”

“I’m not g-going to _throw_ anything at you,” Bill looked bewildered.

“Yell at me! _Be angry!_ I honestly wouldn’t even blame you if you _hated_ me, what I did was shitty and—”

“You think I could _h-h-hate_ you?” there was such raw emotion in his voice, pure bafflement at the fact Mike could even think something like that. “I could never… n-never h-h-hate you,” his voice was fizzling out into a faint breathy whisper like he almost didn’t want to be heard.

“I deserve it. I honestly have no excuse for the way I acted, I just… I freaked out I guess,” he looked embarrassed, mortified even. All he could do next is shrug, as if to shake those feelings off with it.

“F-freaked out b-by _me?”_ he looked petrified as he asked the question as if bracing himself for the answer.

Those words were like piercing daggers stabbing through Mike. “Oh god, no, no,_ no_. Not you, _never_ you,” he was right in front of him then, hands positioned on his shoulders. _How did he get here?_ “Please know that,” he then gave the other man’s shoulders a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“I really liked t-talking on the phone with y-y-you,” Bill started, shyly looking up at Mike, “I started looking f-forward to those c-calls,” he ducked his head, wanting to hide the blush rising in his cheeks. “Then you s-s-stopped,” he was scratching mindlessly at his neck, nails digging into his skin to distract him from the awkwardness he felt seeping through him like some grotesque plague. “I thought I d-did something t-to drive y-you away,” his face warped into a minor wince as he said these words. As if saying them hurt him in some way. He was aimlessly playing with his fingers now as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

“You did nothing, Bill, _nothing.” _

“T-then why w-would you _do_ that to me?” Something in him broke as fresh tears trickled down his face, the words out of his mouth mixed with awful sobs that shook his whole body. He clasped onto Mike’s shirt forcefully in fisted hands, the material wrinkling and crumpled as he held on for dear life. “You… I…” he tried to find the words, but he kept choking on them. He pulled on the shirt roughly, yanking it towards him as if trying to drag Mike down to him. “D-d-do I m-mean _that l-little to you?”_

“God, _no_! You mean _everything _to me, I just—”

Bill was shaking his head, sounds of disagreement leaving him, repeated. He kept shaking his head and squeezed his eyes tightly closed as if that would somehow hide him. “_Everything?_ You m-made me feel like I was n-_nothing_ to you,” when his eyes opened again, they held such agony in them. Mike’s stomach kept twisting into more and more knots. “Do you even know h-how _badly_ you broke my h-h…?” He began to realize the words that were rushing out of him before he went to bite down hard on his tongue, refusing to let himself speak further. His face felt like it was on fire and sweltering. He felt clammy and flushed, his mind dancing as it couldn’t focus on anything for too long other than his torment. 

Mike wanted to kick himself, feeling deep and utter regret. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think at all,” he hated how half-assed and shallow his apologies sounded, but his thoughts are so off kilter and messy he couldn’t string anything intelligent or nice to say like he really wanted to. So instead he went to wipe away the tears that were falling down Bill’s face. “I was being incredibly selfish.”

Bill winced away from the touch, stepping back slightly as he released Mike’s muddled up shirt from his grasp. “D-d-don’t do that,” he begged in a wrecked murmur. The heartbreak on his face was evident.

“Do what?” Mike questioned; eyebrows knitted together.

“Don’t t-_touch me_ like that and m-make me feel…” he gestured pathetically as he tried to come up with a way to finish his sentence, but nothing came. His hand was then absently rubbing against his chest, trying to keep the dull ache in his heart at bay or maybe even to soothe it. As if it would mend back together again after feeling so abandoned, alone, and even worthless.

Mike waited for him to finish, eyes probing and asking the question silently without having to speak it out loud. When he didn’t finish, he finally pressed on, “Make you feel what, Bill?”

Bill shrugged, looking defeated. “M-make me f-feel like I _matter_ to you. Giving me t-that _same hope_ from before that I had that w-will fill me up, make me think that m-_maybe_ you might love me b-back _even a f-fraction_ of the amount that I love you, only for it t-to explode back into my face and completely sh-shatter me, m-making me want c-curl up into a b-ball a-and _die_ f-for feeling s-_so w-w-worthless_ and h-h-_hating_ feeling so w-worthless just b-because _the m-most important p-person to me won’t even t-t-talk to me!” _Everything was coming out in a rapid, long-winded rant as his face was growing hot, his mind swimming. Was he crying again? _Fuck,_ he cursed to himself.

_“Hey, hey, hey,” _Mike scooped him up in his arms, holding him close and securely. “Shh, baby, _shh,”_ his voice was soft and low as he spoke into his hair, tickling his mouth. “I _do_ love you, that’s what I’ve been trying to say,” he raked his hands through Bill’s hair, loving the delicate sensation when it ghosted over his fingers.

Bill’s head snapped up at him in disbelief, confusion painting his features. “Y-you… you love m-me?” his eyes were so hopeful and yearning, Mike could practically melt on the spot. _Damn it._

Mike nodded. “I only did… _what I did,_ because I was stupid and selfish. I was developing… feelings for you, and I _thought_ you didn’t feel the same way, so I decided to just cut all ties before I fucked it up and did something stupid,” he explained, searching Bill’s expression.

“Not t-talking to y-you k-killed me, Mikey…” he wasn’t looking at Mike anymore, the tips of his fingers playing with the buttons on Mike’s blue shirt.

“Hey, look at me,” Mike spoke softly as he reached out to grab his chin, pulling up his face so he could see his baby-blue eyes. They were watery, very sweet and open. Mike sighed sympathetically. “Never again. I will _never_ ever pull this dumb ass shit again, I swear. I’m _crazy_ about you,” he said with a wide, beautiful smile that lit up his face. Bill felt himself smiling too because Mike’s was so beautiful and contagious.

“I’m crazy about you too,” Bill glanced down at Mike’s lips briefly and shot back up to his soulful eyes. “Can y-you, uh…call m-me that th-thing ag-gain?” he asked, quickly looking away. 

“What thing?”

“What y-you called me b-before.”

Mike raised his eyebrows, the words not clicking or ringing any bells. “Wait… what did I call you? Did I call you something?” he genuinely seemed to not know what Bill was talking about.

_“Mikey…”_ Bill whined.

Mike formed a mischievous grin that lit up his whole face like a Christmas tree as he let out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, _baby,_ I know what you meant,” he admitted as he carded a hand through Bill’s wavy locks of hair. He let out a soft hum in pleasure, the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smile.

“Mikey?” Bill’s voice cut through the comfortable silence after a couple of minutes.

“Hmm?”

“Are you ever going to kiss me, or what_?”_ he giggled, a grin wide across his face. Mike wanted to see that smile _all the damn time _from now on and never see it leave his face again_._

“Well, isn’t _somebody _impatient?” Mike teased, starting to lean in.

He stopped as their noses bumped, the soft clash of skin making Bill want more, but Mike pulled away slightly with his eyes steady on him. He could feel his warm breath on his face, smelling like coffee and mint. He wanted to taste him on his tongue, to feel his lips pressed against his own and feel the softness of them. Bill tried to reach him, standing on his tiptoes to find his lips but Mike was just _a little_ too tall. Bill let out a groan. _“Mikey…”_ he complained, “stop being mean to me!” he joked, laughing gently.

“_Patience_, baby,” Mike smirked amusedly to himself as he sent a wink his way.

“You’re an absolute _tease,”_ Bill laughed, smacking him lightly on the arm. 

Next he found himself being scooped up in a pair of strong arms, legs wrapped around Mike’s waist as he went to wrap his own arms around his neck, hoping to god he didn’t fall and make a fool of himself. That worry was cut short by Mike’s lips connecting with his, soft and lovely. Bill’s heart stammered, beating so fast he thought it was going to rupture. The taste of mint and coffee finally filled up his mouth, finally able to taste Mike, taste his lips and his tongue. A shudder rolled down his spine as Mike’s hands were roaming down his back, and he let out a low moan full of desire.

“I’ve barely even _done_ anything yet,” Mike pointed out, amused.

“God, you’re going to kill me.”

Mike separated themselves briefly, just so they could look at each other. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right? Never again,” he assured as he went to grab Bill’s hand.

“P-promise?”

“I promise, baby.” He stole another kiss from him.


End file.
